


life sized ghosts

by 4wholecats



Series: Whumptober 2020 [16]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, F/M, Ghosts, Graphic Description of Corpses, Hallucinations, Prompt: Hallucinations, Whumptober 2020, but not really, post chapter 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27519778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4wholecats/pseuds/4wholecats
Summary: She sits across from him, hands folded on her lap, smiling serenely. He takes a shaky sip from his own cup. It’s very late, but sometimes when he wakes in the night, it’s to her corpse on his floor, with rolling eyes and a snapped, bent neck. He prefers her like this; sublime, untouched, and smiling without a care in the world.
Relationships: Emerina | Emmeryn/Frederick
Series: Whumptober 2020 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959316
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	life sized ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> ive been mad about a lack of a frederick/emmeryn support in awakening since high school and now it manifesting in the form of Psychological Torture

When Frederick sees her, he drops the firewood he’s holding in shock. She stands there in the darkness; a specter between two trees, looking at him blankly. She doesn’t approach him, even as he dares to whisper her name, and when he blinks, she is gone. He runs to the forest, but there is no sign of Emmeryn anywhere to be found. 

The vision shakes him, but he’s a rational man. A lack of sleep and the stress of war have put him on edge. He’s imagining the things he wishes were real.

He doesn’t tell anyone about Emmeryn, and in time, forgets it even happened.

Until he sees her again; half of a reflection in a dirty mirror stolen from a ransacked Plegian home. He whirls around, armor clanking loudly as his shin bangs against a table leg. Emmeryn is, of course, not there, but he’s more awake this time. This is no mere product of a lack of sleep. 

It begins to happen more often.

It’s not so bad at first. A pang of guilt mixed with a bit of sorrow, and then the vision is gone as quick as it arrived. He learns to avert his eyes. But then Emmeryn stops appearing in the distance, or in reflections, or in dreams.

She manifests on the training ground, inches from Frederick’s sword. He’s mid swing- far too late to stop his heavy hand, and she’s gone as the blade makes contact with the perfect skin of her neck. Frederick drops the blade with a gasp, ignoring Stahl’s concerns as he excuses himself from the makeshift fighting ring.

She stalks him as he makes camp, standing in the cooking fire; golden hair lit up like the feathers of a phoenix as she stares him down. He douses the flames abruptly, brushing off the complaints of the others who were mid meal.

It becomes unmanageable.

She won’t leave him alone.

He sits at the small folding table he has in his tent. He doesn’t use it often, since he rarely has guests, but it seems appropriate, given present company. He’s made her a cup of tea, even though he knows she will not drink it.

She sits across from him, hands folded on her lap, smiling serenely. He takes a shaky sip from his own cup. It’s very late, but sometimes when he wakes in the night, it’s to her corpse on his floor, with rolling eyes and a snapped, bent neck. He prefers her like this; sublime, untouched, and smiling without a care in the world.

Her memory torments him; following the army across two continents and back again. Frederick wonders if Chrom, Lissa, or even Robin have been graced by her presence as much as he has. 

She never speaks, and neither does he. It’s not until the army finds a dirty woman with golden hair, on the run from cultists with sacrificial knives, that the ghost finally leaves Frederick alone.


End file.
